Thought of the Day 09/03/2013: The Ultimate Food Processor

Sometime between my typical 6am to 2pm shift at McDonald's yesterday, while taking drive-thru orders, getting drinks and generally cleaning up the different drink stations, my mind wandered to the concept of food processing.  I actually think it happened when I picked up a McChicken to bag a drive-thru order and felt how heavy it was; I was taken aback by the weight.  A single thought popped into my head, admittedly a bit snobbish in nature, and the light bulb illuminated.  The thought was this:

"The only processing I want my food to undergo is the natural process of bodily digestion."

When relying this to a friend later, I further realized the profoundness of this sentiment when I drew the very logical conclusion that this is how the food manufacturers have tricked us into eating an astonishing amount of calories in such small amounts of food.  They process all the food which makes it calorie rich, but it leaves our processing centers, i.e. the digestive tract, with nothing to do once it reaches our system.  Instead of breaking down the elements of the food from complex to simple, which requires digestion over long periods of time to extract all the nutrients in the form of long chains of sugars, fats and amino acids, it automatically stores the already digested forms of simple fat and sugar that the manufacturers have created for us; gee, thanks! Basically, full digestion occurs over hours such that you can burn off the food in real time, in lieu of automatically storing it first.

To drive my point home, I invite you to take place in this simple experiment: For breakfast tomorrow eat one serving of old-fashioned oats (1/2 Cup), add in 1 tablespoon of peanut butter (natural variety is preferred, of course), and a banana.  [Any combination therein is fine as well, just add some nuts (1/2 serving) and a fruit]  Eat that with one fried egg prepared using olive oil cooking spray.  Heck, you can even sweeten your oatmeal with Stevia, an all natural sweetener, if you'd like! Notice how you feel afterwards, I'm willing to guess you didn't get hungry again before lunch.  Ok, the next morning go to McDonald's and have a Bacon Egg and Cheese Biscuit, or Sausage Egg and Cheese McMuffin; whatever floats your boat.  How long did it sustain you compared to the previous day? How did your body feel lethargic, did you get the trots, or did you get hungry soon afterwards? Interestingly, my proposed meal contains a maximum of 420 calories, and a McDonald's breakfast sandwich contains around 480, not to mention the significant difference between the ratio of Fat : Carbohydrate : Protein between the two meals.  Take my word for it, the former is infinitely superior.  I know full-well that I'm being ridiculously biased here, but I sincerely want people to wake up to the fact that eating whole food makes a difference to your body.  When you eat this way, it's damn near impossible to consume more calories in a day than you burn, which of course, is the magic formula for weight gain/loss.

Take Your Pick

To that point, since my significant weight loss, I've committed to a healthy diet void of many popular processed foods but I haven't cut out processed foods altogether due to their convenience and price; two formidable factors that cause the majority of the American population to remain balls-deep in EasyMac. Even this modest shift in my eating habits has enabled me to fend off that 130 pounds for 5 years now. Recently, due to a combination of health issues, I've taken the next steps by eliminating diet sodas, caffeine and artificial sweeteners.  With this new epiphany however, I see the need to cut out the 100 calorie packs of Keebler cookies, yogurt, jello, pudding, bagels and lean cuisine meals that constitute the majority of the processed foods I still eat.  There are whole/natural alternatives of these products that I've avoided because they cost more, but I've decided that my body is worth the increase in price for the less-processed alternatives.  I say 'less-processed' because our reality is such that, unless you want to live in the woods and skin your own meals, we have to function in this society which processes all our food to some degree.  Still, the benefits have spoken for themselves in the form of migraine- and anxiety-free days, as well as better digestive health.

I'll step off my soap box now.  Look, I know it's simply not practical for the majority of Americans to do what I have done, but small changes can be made to at least make advances in the right direction; buying and preparing fresh or frozen fruits and vegetables, baking/broiling/grilling lean meats using olive oil when necessary, cooking minimally processed whole grains like Wild Rice and Whole Wheat Pasta, snacking on Almonds instead of processed carbs like Poptarts, are just some examples.

In general, I still eat some processed foods, it simply can't be completely avoided in our present day society, but here are my steadfast rules:

• No High Fructose Corn Syrup 
• No Monosodium Glutamate (MSG)
• No Artificial Sweeteners (Especially Aspartame!)
• Don't eat anything with a shelf-life older than some of my underwear (Seriously, if it can sit at room temperature longer than a month without going bad, don't eat it; feed it to an enemy.)

Aside: Here's a scary fact, the 'McChicken' filet come in different boxes than the 'Crispy Chicken' filet we use for the rest of our sandwiches; why you might ask? Simply because the McChickens are sold for a mere $1.  What this means is that the consumer is getting a whole lot more breading and chicken by-product than actual chicken when compared to their alternate that sells for at least $3.59. I haven't busted out my lab kit to prove this, but it's an extremely likely deduction given both the economics and quality history of such products.  For example, remember when McDonald's proudly advertised that their McNuggets were now made with all white chicken meat sometime in the early 2000's? It left everyone pondering the dubious question, "If it's white meat now, what the hell was it before?!"

Read anything by Michael Pollan if you're interested in educating yourself about the evils of processed foods.

Thought of the Day 08/24/2013: Intertwined Vines

Having gone into work for a 6:00am all-staff meeting, I decided to head home early for an opportunity to give my house a thorough cleaning.  This is typically a two hour process during which I clean with a determined fervor that could be compared to Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.  For the lengthy vacuuming portion I sequester Charlie to the bedroom to ease his anxiety, then let him out while I'm finishing up with the Swiffer to get the last bits of dust and dog hair, and put the rugs back down.  He switches from his primary bed in the bedroom to his secondary bed in the reading room.  I know his routine as well as he knows mine, so why I was surprised by what happened next, I really can't say.

Next to Charlie's secondary bed, a sweet potato plant I grew from a spud I bought at Wal-Mart when I first moved here sat atop a little stand.  I admit it was a poor choice of placement, but had felt obligated to keep it there as it had sent about thirty vines tightly winding themselves around a wall sconce that was above it.  Moving the sconce was too much work, so even though Charlie had knocked down the plant on three separate occasions, usually while playing with one of his many tennis balls on his bed, it remained there.  During these previous mishaps the plant had fallen on Charlie's bed, so after giving Charlie an incredulous look I sighed and picked up the mess by taking the bed outside and giving it a quick shake; on the last such occasion, I even opted to wash his bed.  

This particular plant was a great source of pride for me.  I attempted the feat simply because my Mom suggested it and I doubted it was possible.  After following her instructions, the half-cut sweet potato sat in a carnival glass candy dish with toothpicks holding it's flat end above the bottom, and I faithfully refilled (never replaced) the water whenever I noticed it was getting low.  After about two months it started looking a bit sickly and shriveled.  I was about to toss it when I looked closely and saw a tiny purple spear jutting out from it's side.  Upon closer inspection I found four more of these out-croppings, so tiny they were nearly invisible.  The rest was history; I marveled as these miniature spears grew at an alarming rate, and even speculated that if I watched them for about four hours I could witness the growth with my own eyes.  Since I'm notoriously horrendous at growing plants I was overjoyed by my plant's success.  Any visitor was marched straight into the reading room to experience my miraculous potato first-hand.  Within two weeks two of the vines had grown tall enough to need support, so I placed them around the bottom of the sconce.  I never imagined that the plant would creep up and over the sconce in such a magnificent way.  Growing this beautiful plant gave me an overwhelming feeling of awe, so despite its inauspicious disposition I left it where it was; it was a hardy plant that had survived its previous dumpings.  The potato, dangling in the air held by it's vines intertwined in the sconce, patiently awaited as I cleaned up the mess and set it back in it's flower pot.  

Something went awry on this particular day, however, and when Charlie suddenly sprang from his bed frightened by the Swiffer he also knocked the pot of soil onto the floor; something inside me snapped.  I glared with fury at the mess in my freshly cleaned house.  The rational side of my conscious broke through long enough to remind me that, since this had happened three time previous, this was actually my own fault.  I had identified this as an almost certain event yet failed to mitigate the issue by moving the plant and sconce, or Charlie's bed.  This rational thought only served to infuriate my primal Human mind; I tell you though I am abhorrently ashamed on myself, that I kicked Charlie in my anger and shoved him outside so that I could clean the mess.  Despite knowing he was outside unchained, and thus unsafe, I wrongly felt he deserved the punishment.  Didn't he know how hard I worked, and how difficult it was for me to find time to keep our home clean? Couldn't he understand my attachment to this plant? (No, he couldn't, because Charlie's a F*ing dog!)  With many such self-pitying thoughts running rampant in my brain I began to violently rip at the vines of my sweet potato, determined to resolve the underlying issue once and for all, experiencing almost physical pain at the sound of every rip.  There were so many, and so strongly wound around the sconce, that I had to tug and pull from many different directions to emancipate the plant from the wall decor.  Almost in tears I realized the symbology of what I was doing.  Even when we know we need to change the things we love, we'll wait until the last possible moment.  We'll wait until we're forced, and then pushed past our breaking point by some menial action that inspires extreme emotion(s) we take it too far and provoke the change in a way that can never be undone.  This is, of course, especially true when applied to relationships we have grown and nurtured.

Charlie's ability to smile is my constant inspiration.

I grudgingly threw my potato away, wondering if I'd bother to start a new one, swept up the dirt and let Charles back in who was anxiously waiting for me to open the door from the front porch.  He looked at me apprehensively.  I gave a heavy sigh and reached down to pet him, telling him I knew it wasn't his fault and apologizing for booting him in the ass.  After one of his epic Charlie smiles he happily bounded off towards his toy box to retrieve his favorite ball as I asked myself "Why can't everyone forgive as easily as my dog?"  

Thought of the Day 08/16/2013: Intolerance and Choice

Today while explaining to some co-workers that speech impediments significantly disturb me, especially on a visual level (lispers tend to overuse their tongues), I was labeled as intolerant.  Instantly I became sad and frustrated, do people really view me this way?  I’m woman enough to admit my faults, but I have never before considered being among them. 

Indeed, I am tolerant of all type of Humans, having no moral judgment in my heart.  Though I may superficially comment on someone’s wandering eye or absurd choice of dress, I never extend that to their fundamental ability to function as a Human.  To me all Humans despite their faults, addictions, physical oddities, masturbation habits, race, general moral deficiencies or education level, deserve a fundamental level of respect because they are here attempting to survive as a Human. We’re all in this rat race together, for better or worse, and since no one is without fault, no Human has the right to judge another. 

Now, the one thing I do have in my heart is honesty; it’s been called brutal.  I was raised never knowing if I was being told the truth; as a result, I apply a strict policy of full disclosure smothered in 100% honesty.  This it is my gift to those around me, but for some people it is a gift they never asked for or expected, and it is often misconstrued as rudeness and/or intolerance.

Since I’ve been on the self-improvement kick for the past couple of years, I thought hard about why being called intolerant upset me so much.  It can only upset me if I think it’s true, because though people perceive me in different ways, it is how I perceive myself that truly matters.  As Humans we should all be sensitive to the gaps between how others take us and how we want to be taken; but relying too heavily on the approval and opinion of others can be devastating to one’s self esteem.  We should instead focus on who we want to be and align our behaviors accordingly; some people won’t get it, because ultimately we can’t control what others think or how they interpret our behavior. Accepting this is Step #1 towards stronger self-esteem.

Anyway, I realized that I am indeed intolerant, but of only one thing.  This one thing, however, is so broad that I understand how it can be taken as general intolerance. I cannot, and will not, tolerate people who fancy themselves victims.  If someone is unhappy then they must do something to change their situation, pure and simple; I have no time to listen to their incessant gripes.  People in shitty relationships need to overcome the fear of loneness and leave, people who hate where they live need to move, people who hate their job need to quit, addicts who hate themselves due to their addictions need to get their asses to a meeting, people who hate their poverty need to find a way to conserve or make money, if Person A has an issue with Person B then they need to confront Person B instead of bitching about them to everyone else.  These are the things that I cannot tolerate; complacency over one’s own happiness.

What’s odd is that this morning I was contemplating writing about my thoughts on the choices, or lack thereof, which people make and realized that these two things are directly related.  People feel victimized when they believe that they have no choices.  To this point I will state this undeniable fact: THERE IS ALWAYS A CHOICE.  Even if someone is holding a gun to your head, there is a choice.  Now, what truly makes us feel like we have no choice is that we find the repercussions of those choices so horrible that we trick ourselves into thinking there isn’t one at all; but that is a fallacy. 

For example, I repeatedly flake on friends.  I opt to do the things I feel are critical to sustaining low stress levels, and thus, my sanity; damn the consequences.  Sometimes I feel guilty, but I attempt to mitigate that by warning friends of my flakiness.  Also, I assure them that if they clearly state the event’s importance, I will commit and keep that commitment.  This makes some of them angry and I’ve even lost friends this way, but that’s just something I have to deal with.  I do this in accordance with one of my fundamental principles: When a person makes a choice to ensure someone else’s happiness, instead of their own, they will create resentment towards them either conscious or subconscious. So, ironically, I do my loved ones the favor of keeping myself happy first and foremost, which in turn ensures that I am emotionally fit to optimize my relationships with them.

I make choices every day, doing so knowing that I will have to deal with their repercussions both positive and negative.  Especially daunting is the fact that it’s not always possible to prepare for that outcome or know whether it will be positive or negative.  In this case, I choose what I think will make me happiest at the time and the choice that is best in-line with my intrinsic principles; regardless of what I suspect will happen afterwards. Most importantly, it makes me feel powerful to know that I always have a choice, and that I’m strong enough to deal with the outcomes.

So yes, I am intolerant, but my honesty keeps me from being apologetic for this fact.  Making choices and invoking change is painful and terrifying, but it is also a requirement for growth and happiness.  

Thought of the Day 07/17/2013: The Partner of My Dreams

After a considerable hiatus from dating and/or having a 'romantic' relationship, I recently pitched an attempt at dating (technically my second, but the first was so half-hearted it really shouldn't count).  In light of my failed engagement, fears regarding a relapse into co-dependent behavior, I stayed true to my principles to navigate these foreboding waters; but there was an added benefit of flexibility as the guy was one of my best friends, understood my quirks, and was also in no hurry for anything serious since he's also been single for the majority of his years.  Now, a relationships between two people who desperately cling to their single habits made a few things clear to me, which made the modest anxiety I experienced during this time completely worth it in the end.

This brings me to my central, critical, premise: PEOPLE WILL NOT AND DO NOT CHANGE, FOR ANY REASON, UNLESS THEY HAVE A TRUE DESIRE TO CHANGE. When someone changes for the sake of another it creates resentments, both conscious (they actually feel angry/resentful) and subconscious (they tell themselves they don't care, that they want to change to make the other person happy, but they really don't because the change is against their fundamental nature).

Simply put, to be involved in a relationship one must make changes to accommodate the other person; spatially, emotionally and physically. One must want that person in their bubble, want to touch them and want to feel for them on a tangible level, which can require considerable changes in daily routine and thought processes.  Whether or not the relationship has longevity depends completely on both people wanting to make these changes.

Long story short, my friend and I are better off the way we were; neither of us wanted it badly enough.  This is absolutely fine and happens 99.99% of the time.  The beneficial aspect of all this is that it made me realize what I need; indeed, what I deserve, to have a lasting healthy relationship.  To this end, here are some of the following features that my future life-partner will possess (and yes, I say life-partner because I refuse to adhere to the social convention of gender restriction, i.e. that I must marry a man because I'm a woman):

1. Is Spiritually Awake, Meaning:
• Profound and fundamental faith in something higher than their own ego
• Distinguishes 'Knowing' from 'Believing' (this subject is an article all it's own, and hopefully I'll remember to write it someday)
• Understands that there is no such thing as a right/wrong decision, and trusts that people make the best decision they can at that time with good intention
• There is no such thing as blame
• Does not judge others based on typical human character flaws
• Sees the hilarity of life, from the most tragic to the most beautiful
2. Has a Good Sense of Direction (symbolically, I need someone who knows where they are but can get somewhere else on their own without my help)
3. Makes Me Feel Wanted and Comforted
• Effectively, this person will personify Xanax
4. Will Clandestinely Drive Me to Self Improve
5. Reinforces and Reveals My Divine Lessons
6. Understands Me, But Does Not Always Agree With Me
7. Communicates Effectively and Actively
8. Honest and Selfish Enough to Leave Me if it's What They Need
9. Accept and Appreciate My Reciprocity of Each of These Points

I realize that this is a lot to ask for, but these are the building blocks I require; I'm simply too busy working on myself, selfish though that my sound, to work on the fundamentals of others.  Therefore, it naturally follows that I am fully prepared to spend this life alone.  This will inevitably seem sad, but I'm perfectly okay with that; it is a decision I've made mindfully, accepting the consequences and understanding that if I feel lonely I must change my willingness to compromise the needs I've detailed above, instead of projecting my loneliness onto others in the form of a crappy pessimistic attitude, like an old crotchety spinster.  Nevertheless, I am more important than compromising these needs and principles for the sake of having companionship; I'm the only companion I truly need and, most importantly, I'm the only companion that's guaranteed to stick around for my entire life.

Travel Day 7: Thursday, 6/21/2012

23:39 Stockholm [Link to Pics]

Had an AMAZING DAY in Stockholm with MB!  So far the food here is the best I've had, but it's also mostly been desserts, which easily win me over, haha.  I'll write more later, but I'm so tired and tomorrow will be a long day as it's the Midsummer festival! The sun isn't going down, so I'm finding that I'm tired but not really feeling the urge to sleep.  I know I must though, so to bed!

Travel Day 6: Wednesday, 6/20/2012

NOTE: Continuing forward I will refer to people only by their first and last initials [FL] to maintain anonymity.

7:05 Stuttgart Hbf [Hbf = Hauptbahnhof = Main train station]
Well, I at least made it to the right platform with plenty of time to spare for my train to Hamburg.  I didn't sleep last night which was the culmination of relief of my constipation (I'm pretty sure the doner kebab loosened things up), having 2 large beers and apfelstruedel (Trains here!) and a large cappuccino (2 shots of espresso).

Aside: First class is pretty nice and the train is cool looking, can't wait to see how fast it goes.

I'm feeling anxious but that's my norm after a night of even modest drinking and lack of sleep, combine that with the fact that I'm traveling to Stockholm via 3 trains, none of which have any room for error.  Oh, thank God they do announcements in English too!

Last night, after a quick nap during which I had a dream JB and I were trying to lug a keg up a flight of concrete stairs and I got mad at a bunch of Germans for only speaking German so I decided to get back at them by speaking in a thick UK-Cockney accent which they likewise wouldn't understand (RANDOM), PS, MK and I headed to the Hbf to find their friend SR and then we were going to get doner kebabs, groceries and trinkt! [German translation = drink!]

1) Doner Kebabs - How do you say mother-fucking amazing in German?! These Turkish 'pitas' come in 2 varieties, in a 'pita' or 'yufta' a large peice of delicious flat bread they make right there on their grill. It's like a cross between a thick flour tortilla and naan.  Holy awesome.  I got mine with everything - Feta, lettuce, onion, tomato, red and green cabbage/half sauerkraut-like and their version of tzatziki.  It was absolutely phenomenal.  While in Berlin I think I'll try the popular pizza that these places also sell.  Both MK and SR, each having lived there, agree Berlin has high quality food at the lowest prices, so that's where I plan to try the large quantity of foods :)  Food in general here is very reasonable.  I got 2 days worth of groceries for only 8Euro.

2) Trinken und Dessert - Per MK I tried a dark (and large!) beer, also made in Stuttgart by Dinkelwieser, I can't really remember the name but hope to recognize it so I can get it again as it was the largest and cheapest on the menu, haha.  Then I had a banana-weisen, which I assumed was a beer with banana flavor brewed into it.  Instead, I got a monstrous glass of half-beer half-banana syrup.  It was good, but I think I'll stick with the dark beer I mentioned.  No imperial stouts here it seems :(  After 2 beers and a lot of marvelous conversation, we headed to the restaurant that had caught my eye on several previous occasions right on Schlossplatz.  We were in pursuit of black forest cake, but couldn't find it so I'm to buy it at a bakery in Berlin cuz it'll be very cheap but very good.  Instead, I was recommended the traditional Apfelstruesel which was served hot with custard, vanilla ice cream which had melted and whipped cream - Holy phenomenal!  It was simple, the dough was thin and unassuming and the dish wasn't as sweet as it's American counterpart, which was perfect.  Oh, by the way, I bought the German version of equal, which are tiny tablets, haha.  I'm so ridiculous.  The food in general here is less salty and sugary.  I feel most Americans would call it bland, but for me it's perfect.  Relying more on herbs, spices and general culinary aptitude to execute flavorful dishes. I wonder how fast we're going cuz it's definitely faster than American trains ( I should have warned SR about that....).

3) SR - One of the hottest men I've ever seen and I noticed a ring :( PS said 'long-term' is on the Left and 'married' is on the Right.  Here's the funny thing, I made a total ass of myself (shocking, I know) when I asked where his GF/wife was; he said his boyfriend was in Berlin.  Thanks for clueing me in PS! But this was good because before then I was kind of shying away from him, though he looked at me a lot [I'll explain later] and we both have similar job histories as he used to be a monitor for clinical research! At this point, knowing he was gay and unattainable on all fronts, I no longer held back and we spent all night talking.  He and his boyfriend have been together for 7 years but they live in different countries until SR finishes his PhD in Liverpool and moves back to Berlin.  They're taking a trip from Vancouver to LA in September which they're very excited about (which is why I mentioned the train-thing earlier).

What I really love about SR is that he is all man, no flamboyancy, yet gay.  It got me thinking, did societal constraints somehow cultivate the flamboyant gay stereotype which is rampant in America? Do they feel they need to distinguish themselves and display that behavior though it perpetuate their own negative stereotype? Sure, there's guys like G- and TE who are like SR, but they are gems.  Is SR also a gem? I haven't met enough gay Germans to know.  Either way, I really enjoyed meeting him and he insisted on giving me a hug when we parted last night. Actually what he said stuck in my mind, 'Let me give you a hug,' and he gave me a look and embrace, almost that of pity, but with sincere feelings of acceptance and positive energy wishes for a better future for me.  Could I really present my damage so obviously? Since all my emotions are blunt I have no doubt an enlightened/aware person can easily pick up on my scars, but I don't want to convey myself that way, at least not that I mask it with fake happiness.  Yes, I've been hurt, but yes, I am happy.

Or perhaps I saw something that wasn't there and he just wanted to hug me.  Yet my instincts told me, I felt his energy, he was actually hoping things would be better for me. I accept that energy with all of my heart and thank him.  What a beautiful soul.... and ripped arms, haha :P

4) General German Stare-Downs - I noticed yesterday that I was getting the stare-down a lot more than normal, at least more than I'm used to and enough to make me notice.  I'm sure it was half paranoia and half real.  I thought either A) They can tell I'm a foreigner by looking at me, B) I'm too scantily clad with showing tattoos, cloth shorts and a tank top, or C) I'm incredibly attractive.  I asked MK and while he was kind and conceded point C was the likely culprit, he replied that, in general, Germans don't look but stare at people.  It doesn't both me, in fact I feel a bit relieved as by American standards, I also tend to stare; but I couldn't help but be confused.  SR later agreed with this point.  I think this is also related to another thing I noticed and very much appreciate and respect: Germans maintain CONSTANT eye contact while conversing.  I absolutely love this directness, it's bold and engaging and illustrates active conversation with mutual conveyance unlike America, where it's all double speak, eye aversion and general standoff-ish body language.  Respectfully, Germans are like myself, state the truth and opinions as though they were fact, and respectful acknowledgment of thoughts and ideas.

Overall I think it's clear I'd be phenomenally happy to live here; I think I'd fit right in without consequence.  Last night, I even made a 5 year plan to learn German and move here.

5) Stuttgart, A Reflection - The city of stairs and my calves/shins can vouch for it!  Gorgeous, quaint city with positively delightful close towns like Esslinger and Ludwigsburg.  Definitely set a great tone for the rest of my trip and made a huge positive impression on me!

I keep getting paranoid about being on the wrong train and I'm also in a reserved train car cuz we stopped at Mannheim and I was in the water closet (WC, aka toilet), when I came back there were old people in my seat, haha.  I moved, but realize I may have to do so again.  Some of the signs above the seats changed to Frankfurt and I thought maybe the train split but Frankfurt is on the way, so I'm being silly.  I will worry though!  Gonna occupy my time as writing is difficult on this thing.

11:35 Train to Hamburg
Just stopped in Hannover, so we should be in Hamburg in about an hour.  I just closed my eyes to relax, and will away the hunger of sheer boredom, and something so clear occurred to me I feel compelled to immortalize it.  It's critical to 'Plight of the Chronic Talker.'  It has become obvious, according to how people attempt to address me, that I look German; just another face in the crowd.  I blend in and no one assumes I'm a foreigner and can't speak Deutsch or understand what they're saying; I can't eavesdrop.  This may not seem like an epiphany, but it showed me why I want to be German with such zeal; it is my one attempt to control the one behavior I feel powerless over, my lack of filter.  In America, I'm outgoing, frank, loud, inappropriate, though funny, endearing (I think at times), sincere and kind; I still display tactlessness as a result of my not know what I'm going to say before it's already our of my mouth.  This is what I wish to change.

Since they don't know I can't speak German, here I must seem quiet, reserved and polite; replying in simple pleasantries because that's all I know.  This is how I alway want to be.  What's more, in learning German, I will at first need to carefully survey the words I say, checking them for context, meaning and syntax.  In effect, I will have a powerful filter because as I do that, I can also check my tendency to be too bold and opt to tread the line between funny and inappropriate in consideration of cultural views.  Even when I become fluent and the need to choose my words is gone, habit will likely prompt me to continue my routine, effectively acting as a filter.

In this way I can keep all my wonderful communication skills which have led me to portray myself as a competent, intelligent, honest, funny, kind and hopefully considerate person without those off-hand comments that turn heads and draw negative attention to me.

True, sometimes I am able to think before I speak, realize it borders tactlessness, but for either humor or emphasis say it anyway.  I take responsibility for the things I say and the reaction of others.  What people don't understand, except BD, is that I don't always get the luxury of knowing what I'm about to say and I'm as ashamed of my words as others feel awkward at having heard them.  This is a way for me to start over.

13:40 Train to Koebenhaven [Link to Pics]
Successfully made it on the train to Koebenhaven and I couldn't find a place to fill up my water bottle and the lady in the dining section said I had to pay :(  Let's see how thirsty I get before I give in. . . I gave in, 2.80Euro, then I found out I had a voucher for free water all along, haha.

16:10 Train to Koebenhaven
I met a cool chick from Atlanta who tole me I get free coffee, which I didn't realize; tits!  We just took the ferry into Denmark too. Woot!

18:46 Train to Stockholm
Third and final Train!  This one is high speed, I'm going to ask how fast it goes.  The ferry crossing into Denmark was cool and after that I sat with HS.  I'm glad I met her, it reaffirms that there are people exactly like me out there; intelligent, ambitious, seeking and stuck inside their own head, trapped by anxiety.  She's going to meet up with a friend's cousin (from the UK) in Amsterdam to marry him for citizenship; an idea which profoundly resonates with me.  I hope it works out for her if that's what she truly wants.  Going to try and sleep now as it's Midsummer in Stockholm and I'm not sure what MB has planned :)

Thought of the Day 06/13/2013: Hay Haulin' Humility

Fact: The ability to run ten miles at a steady pace is not an accurate measure of overall physical ability.

This was the sad realization I came to last night when I went to my bosses barn to unload and stock a year's worth of hay for her horses.

To be fair, I asked how many bales there would be and for their approximate weight prior to attempting this feat.  I was told that there was around 300 bales to unload at 50-80 pounds each, which I knew would be extremely difficult for me given my admittedly abominable upper body strength (and/or lack, thereof).  Nevertheless, I committed to the potentially embarrassing adventure.

And oh, embarrassing, indeed! The first bale I attempted to move stood steadfast against my most laborious effort, not so much as a budge; it mocked me.  Granted I felt a bit better after being told the bales tended more around the tune of 100 pounds, but given a chick the same size as me, maybe even slightly smaller, was throwing them around like bags of friggin' feathers, I was sufficiently mortified.  I tried not to think about it, but damn, how exquisitely humbling.  So much for my obsessive cardio training, it did me no good in this strength-centric arena.

To make matters even worse, due an extremely large lunch of chicken fajitas and entire basket of chips at my favorite mexican restaurant, plus a cinnamon roll I'd indulged in that morning, when it came to feasting on the pizza my boss had bought for our hay haulin' fuel I was still too full to eat a significant amount.  Instead, I opted for a seemingly meager meal of two tofu hot dogs, pretzels, a salad and some yogurt.  My boss was convinced I lacked strength because I hadn't eat enough, something I've both heard and felt for years; indeed, as the basis of my 'eating disorder not otherwise specified.'  Regardless, this made me feel mentally inadequate in addition to my physical failings.

Well, I loaded the bales onto the conveyor for awhile, sometimes alone if I could get them up onto my hip or thigh which were able to compensate for my lack of biceps, but most times with much needed help from a friend.  Finally I found my true calling, unloading the wagon by pushing the bales off the side to be picked up by the burlier haulers below.  Rolling the bales end-over-end proved much easier as I employed my ample back, should and leg muscles to execute the task in lieu of my puny arms.

After unloading the first wagon I noticed that my voice was all but gone and I was starting to wheeze, so I popped two Benadryl and watched as the men, and my boss, unloaded the second.  This morning when she tried to pay me twenty bucks I looked from the bill to her and back horrified, I felt like I owed her the $20, not the other way around! I most certainly had not earned this money, and I could therefore not accept it under any terms.  Since she wouldn't take it back, I split it between two colleagues who had also come with me to help; championing the work that I could not.

To me, the lesson here was clear: for total body strength one needs not only a dynamic exercise regimen of both cardio and weight lifting, but more importantly, one also requires secure mental health.  My issue is not that I don't eat enough, it's that I constantly worry that I don't.  When I consciously make an effort to eat more and help boost my energy to support my workouts, I become petrified of gaining weight and immediately seek ways to justify cutting the calories back out of my diet.  As such, I won't even attempt to vale my pessimism as I continue to lose hope of fully achieving the latter part of my conclusion, though I have made a half-hearted attempt at sprinkling some strength training into my routine.  My circular pattern of irrational fear and anxiety surrounding what I do and do not eat has been a significant cause of suffering in my life, but it's also something I seek to continually remediate.  Still, it's proving the most difficult habit-breaking exercise I have ever experienced.  This issue has even prohibited me from starting my weight-loss book, an endeavor near and dear to my heart, as I feel that I have to beat this problem as an ending for the work.   I must face the realization, however, that it may not happen, instead focusing on the more optimistic possibility that writing the book may yield it's own ending; I just have to start writing and see what materializes.  Stay tuned.